They came across the open like a tide of metal, no cover to slow them and no tactics. Just speed, numbers and the flat dusty plain. And from the back, where we could not reach, the two artillery mechs opened up and began walking shells into the centre of our ring.The artillery mechs were the part that made it messy; not only were they extra mechs on the field in a numerical advantage, but they were also force multipliers that could pin us down and suppress us.The first volley of artillery shells took both Andrew and one of Miller’s Vanguards in a single white flash. We returned fire, as I raised my shotgun up high, waiting for the perfect opportunity. As they pressed down on us, our weapons managed to take out two of their slower mechs that showed signs of damage from earlier in the fight.The enemy platoon leader came straight for me. The swarm broke around our defensive ring like water around stone, laying direct fire into our mechs. He wanted me dead, and more importantly, he wanted it to be seen.I started to move to meet him, and the commander began to rear.“Rabbit.” Miller’s voice came across the comm link.I looked towards his mech out of my peripheral vision. His Vanguard mech was barely a mech anymore, his shield arm gone at the elbow, half its plating scored down to the bare frame, his shoulder venting smoke into the dead air. He had no business still being upright.“Kick his ass, don’t worry about the rest of us,” he said plainly. “That’s the only fight that matters right now, and it’s the only one you can win. Well, I could if I had a functioning mech, but....”“Miller, the artillery’s going to—”“That’s not me asking.” I could almost hear the smile on his face. “For once in your stubborn life, stop arguing and let someone else carry the burden. Go.”Then he was barking orders, hauling the ring in tighter, and shoving his own ruined mech into the gaps where shells landed (...)